


To Pitch a Tent or Pitch a Fit

by benedictedcumberbatched



Series: 1000 Followers Fanfic Giveaway [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Camping, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3850987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictedcumberbatched/pseuds/benedictedcumberbatched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>#1 - Camping</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Pitch a Tent or Pitch a Fit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thehalliebadger](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thehalliebadger).



> As always nothing belongs to me nor do I do this for profit.

“For gods sake, Molly! That is not how you pitch a tent!” Sherlock all but shouted as he dropped his armful of sticks into a pile. Molly glared at him over her shoulder. She rose to her feet, blowing her hair out of her face as she rounded on him.

“If you know how to do it right, then you do it!” she yelled, shoving the remaining tent stakes into his hands. “I’ll get the firewood,” she huffed, storming away from him.

Sherlock watched her leave before staring at the pathetic excuse of a tent she had been working on. Honestly, who didn’t know how to pitch a tent? Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so harsh though he ruminated as he drove the first peg into the ground. But truly, there were usually instructions with this sort of thing.

He glanced over his shoulder as Molly returned and dropped the stack of sticks in her arms onto the pile he had started. She completely ignored him, turning on her heel, her ponytail swinging behind her as she headed back into the woods. 

Sherlock scowled, driving the next peg into the ground with force. He ignored her this time as she returned and dropped the sticks. But he couldn’t resist, so he turned around as he drove the third peg into the ground and watched as she began to stack the wood up to create a fire. He quickly finished setting up the tent before he slowly walked toward Molly.

“Molly…” he trailed off, trying to catch her eye. She just ignored him, shaking out the matches they had brought to start the fire. “Molly,” he said again, kneeling down beside her. 

She tried to strike the match, her nose scrunching up in that way he liked. But the force of her strike made the thin wood snap under her fingers. She huffed and pulled out another match. “Molly, stop,” he said gently, wrapping his hand over hers and taking the box and match from her fingers. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he apologized.

It was getting easier to apologize, but when it wasn’t to Molly, it still felt bad on his tongue. “You start the fire,” she mumbled, before getting up and brushing her knees off. She grabbed the sleeping bags from the boot of the car before bringing them and their bag over to the tent and began setting it up.

They had argued back and forth over what to do on her long weekend off from work. It had been Sherlock who suggested camping, something she didn’t think he would ever be interested in. She agreed, but with two caveats, no cases and to leave his mobile at home. He had argued with her about the mobile but she had won in the end.

She shook out the sleeping bags, unfolding both of them and zipping one out to place beneath them for the night and the other as their blanket. She had felt the tent jostle as he climbed in after her, even ignoring the sound of him zipping the doorway closed. She sighed as she felt his hands fold around her hips, pulling her back against him. She could feel the beginnings of his arousal against her rear. “Really Sherlock?” she rounded on him indignantly. 

“What?” he replied, releasing her hips to allow her room to move. 

Molly rolled her eyes and leaned forward to press her lips to his. “Not now. Remember, you’re doing this for me. You’ll be able to pay me back next time I get a long weekend off,” she stated as she pulled back. 

Sherlock grumbled as he sat down beside her. “What did we pack for food? We did pack food, didn’t we?” he asked. 

Molly stared at him for a moment before reaching across for the bag. She dug through it silently for a moment, before biting her lip as she looked up at him. “Um…well…”

“Molly!” he flopped back on the sleeping bags. He dramatically folded his arm over his eyes, a small smirk at the corner of his lips. He peeked out beneath them, watching as Molly’s face turned redder and redder. 

“Wasn’t there a bed and breakfast not far from here?” she asked sheepishly.


End file.
